


The Sight of the Sun

by asafeplace



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Compliant, Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Spoilers, Canon Compliant, Fix-It, Fluff, Happy Ending, M/M, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-28
Updated: 2019-04-28
Packaged: 2020-02-08 14:20:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18625009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asafeplace/pseuds/asafeplace
Summary: "I'm with you 'til the end of the line."And as long as Steve and Bucky are both breathing, it's not the end of the line.(AKA Endgame fucked me up, and I wrote this to heal the wounds. The end of the movie still happens, but here are the missing conversations and moments between Bucky and Steve after he gives Sam the shield.)





	The Sight of the Sun

Tony Stark was dead. And Steve hated himself for harbouring even a small spark of joy.

He had tried so hard to bury it. One of his best friends had died, _sacrificed_ himself for, well, everyone. This was a time of mourning. It wasn’t like Steve was immune to this pain either. Tony’s death was like the loss of a limb: you heal, and you find ways to move on, but you never quite feel the same. But between the hours of grief, he’d find small cracks of happiness shining through his mind. 

Because even though Tony was gone, Bucky was back. He was alive and healthy, and he’d stepped out of one of Strange’s portals looking like a goddamn L’Oréal commercial wrapped in Kevlar. And Steve had been ready to end the battle right then and there because no matter what happened, he had already won. He’d gotten to see Bucky at least one more time. 

At the funeral, he’d stood separate from Bucky out of respect for Tony if nothing else. Steve’s muscles ached to be close to him, but that wasn’t the time. Honestly, some days he felt like it would never be their time. 

///

Bucky couldn’t figure out why Steve was avoiding him. After the funeral, they’d ended up standing alone in the kitchen while the rest of the guests had stayed outside or moved to the living room. And Steve had treated him like . . . a colleague. 

He’d barely said five words to him: only “Hey” and “Pass the mug”, all the while looking everywhere but his face. Bucky had felt invisible.

And that was wrong. Because Steve had never made him feel invisible. He always knew his worth in Steve’s eyes, even when he didn’t know himself. It just wasn’t in their nature to ignore each other. Even when they were younger, before the war, Steve had always seen him in a way that no one else had, like his gaze was made of knives cutting into Bucky’s core. So, this? After everything, this was the worst part yet.

///

Steve stepped towards Bucky, adjusting one of the panels of his suit. Light filtered through the canopy, glinting off the metal of the time machine.

“You coming back to me, Rogers?” Bucky asked. On the surface, his tone was light, but Steve could feel the fear behind the words.

“I. . . I don’t know,” Steve answered. It was the truth: the messy, undefined truth. 

Bucky nodded, letting his gaze fall towards the tree line. “You left one hell of a woman behind.”

“Yeah, but I’m about to walk away from one hell of a man.”

Bucky’s expression turned serious. “Don’t mess with me like that, Stevie.”

“I wasn’t joking.”

“You know what I’m talking about.”

Steve sighed. “I know.” He smiled gently. “I’m sorry.”

He turned to walk up the steps of the platform. Bucky placed a hand his shoulder.

“You’re really gonna leave without saying goodbye?”

And that was all Steve needed to hear. He pulled Bucky into his arms, clutching the back of his jacket in his fist. For half a second, Bucky hesitated, standing stiff in Steve’s embrace. For the last few days, Steve had been distant—not quite cold to Bucky but like he was holding himself back. But now, he was giving himself away. One of Steve’s hands slid up Bucky’s back to the nape of his neck and pulled him a little closer. Bucky mirrored the motion, letting Steve’s press his face into the space where his shoulder met his neck. 

As Steve disappeared into the quantum realm, Bucky willed himself not to cry. No matter what Steve said, Bucky already knew that he wasn’t coming back. 

///

Steve sat on the bench. Bucky stood a few feet away, looking decidedly away from him. 

“Buck, I—” He sighed. “I’m _sorry._ Honestly, I only meant to stay with her for a day—a day—just long enough to say goodbye. But then, I don’t know, it was just. I couldn’t leave her. I mean, after all of these years, once I was there, I just couldn’t leave her.”

“You managed to leave me.” 

“I know.”

Bucky didn’t respond. 

“I still have the serum, you know. I’m not dead yet, just a little worse for wear.” There was a touch of hope in his voice: an offering. 

“Steve,” Bucky squeezed his eyes shut and took a breath. “This isn’t like you left for a month or year, and you fell in love before you eventually wandered back. You lived a _lifetime_ without me. You’ve had more than 70 years of getting married and dinner with friends and watching movies and going to work, but it was all without me. You’re twice as old as me. You’re just. . . We can’t.”

“And normally, I’d agree with you, Buck, but we’re not normal. The two of us? We’re different, always have been.”

“But you chose _her._ I’m just what’s left over.”

“Is that what you really believe?”

“Give me one reason why that’s not true.”

“Come sit,” Steve said, patting the bench next to him. “You’re not.” He gripped Bucky’s hands, flesh and metal. “Trust me, you’re not.”

Bucky smiled sadly. “But I am. We just—maybe in another time, but we’re from the 40s. It’s okay though; I’ve made my peace with it. Being Steve Rogers’ second choice is still a goddamn honour.”

At that, Steve laughed wetly. 

“You know, when we went back in time to get the infinity stones, I had to fight myself.” Seeing Bucky’s confused expression, he continued, “The past-me thought that I was Loki, and he tried to apprehend me. And he almost beat me. I mean, for a second there, I really thought he was going to win. But then, I said something to him, and he just . . . froze.” Steve looked down at his hands, spotted and wrinkled with time. “Do you know what I said?”

Bucky shook his head. 

“I said, ‘Bucky is alive.’”

For a moment, they were both silent, watching ripples spread across the surface of the lake. 

“I didn’t say anything about Peggy. You know why?” Steve turned his head: he needed to see Bucky’s eyes when he said this next part. “I meant it when I said that Peggy was the love of my life. That wasn’t a lie.” He paused, letting that sink in. “But what people don’t understand is that I’ve lived a few lives over the years. 

“Before we joined the army; after I became Captain America; when I woke up in the future; after I lost Captain America; and now, going back to the past. Those are my lives, and Peggy was the love of my life as Captain America. But you? You’re the constant, Buck. Peggy was the love of my life, but you’re love of my _lives_. Okay?”

Bucky bit his bottom lip, and Steve worried that it was too much, too soon. Bucky was right: he was just an old man who’d done wrong by his friend far too many times to be forgiven. _God,_ why did he even try? Bucky said that he had made his peace with the whole thing, but Steve was still back here, stomping around in his life, selfishly trying to worm his way back in. This whole thing was a mistake. He should have never—

“You’re really going to say all that and then ask me if it’s okay?” Bucky grinned, genuinely this time. “Hey Buck, it’s me, your old pal Steve. Except now I’m actually old because I travelled back in time and spent the last 70 years with my girlfriend. Oh, and by the way—you’re the love of my life!” he mocked, imitating Steve’s voice. “Wait, not life, _lives._ So, you good Buck?”

“I take it you are, then.”

Bucky placed his metal hand on top of Steve’s, covering the palm but interlacing the fingers. “Yeah, Stevie. We’re good.” 

He leaned his head over and let it rest on Steve’s shoulder, just as he had done before the serum and just as he had done when they were sitting in Wakanda, the day before he went back into cryo. Sure, Steve was a little smaller than him now, but some things stayed the same, no matter what changed. 

///

It was a little weird at first. They had to relearn each other. 

Physically, it reminded Bucky of what life was like before the serum. Sure, Steve didn’t have asthma or colour-blindness or any serious issues, but 70 years takes a toll on any body. While Bucky still had the strength, speed, and reflexes of the supersoldier serum coursing through his veins, it had faded enough in Steve so that was like any young, relatively fit man—which was still extraordinary, considering his age. 

And in all honesty, Bucky had gotten used to roughhousing with Steve: punching him in the arm, racing him to the kitchen, even spontaneous wrestling matches. So now, he had to remember to be careful. 

But that was small in comparison to the other things. Bucky hadn’t been wrong when he’d said that Steve had lived a lifetime without him. And that lifetime had changed him. He was wiser now, calmer too. It was like he had finally . . . settled. And you know what? Bucky kind of liked that. They deserved some peace. Someone else would pick up the fight. 

///

It had been three months since Bucky and Steve had talked on the bench beside the lake. On the third floor of an apartment building in the heart of Brooklyn, Bucky lay with his head on Steve’s chest. The afternoon sun slipped through their bedroom window, shading the wood floor in hues of gold light and purple shadows. With one arm folded behind his head and the other hand carding through Bucky’s hair, Steve leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his forehead. 

Bucky sighed contentedly and they returned to silence. 

(That was another difference. They were quieter now. Less talking, less words, more quiet glances and subtle touches, like the brushing of the back of Steve’s hand across Bucky’s cheek or Bucky’s fingers grazing the small of Steve’s back.)

With his eyes closed, Bucky listened to the sound of Steve’s heartbeat.

“You ever think that . . .” Bucky trailed off, pausing before he finished his thought. “Maybe we were lucky?”

“Huh.” Bucky could hear the smile in Steve’s voice. “Sometimes, I guess.”

“I know it’s a little weird, considering how many times we’ve died and hydra and everything, but I don’t know—I get to be with you here and now, and that just seems _so_ impossible.”

“Yeah. How many people can say that they’ve had two great loves?”

And three months ago, that would have hurt. It would have felt like Steve choosing Peggy all over again. But now? Now, that was just another part of the story. It was a beautiful, joyful chapter of Steve’s life, and Bucky was happy that Steve could have that, even if he wasn’t a part of it. 

He looked back up at Steve, catching his gaze. “Yeah. How many?” he said fondly.

Bucky lifted his head from Steve’s chest and propped himself up on his metal arm. For a moment, they were both still, just watching the other’s eyes. Steve broke the spell with a glance down to Bucky’s lips.

Bucky rolled his eyes. “God. Even old, you can’t keep your hands off me.”

“Shut up.”

“Make me.”

“That’s so unoriginal.”

But that didn’t stop him from leaning in and capturing Bucky’s lips within his own. He kissed him slowly, like they had all the time in the world and then some. And there was none of that savouring-the-kiss nonsense: you don’t savour brushing your teeth or watering the plants. This was just as natural, just as mundane. So, yeah, Bucky kissed Steve and Steve kissed Bucky in their one-bedroom apartment in Brooklyn. And it was sweet and lazy and _normal._

Steve pulled back an inch and tucked a strand of hair behind Bucky’s ear. “Love you.”

Bucky grinned. “Love you too.”

With that, Bucky lay his head back down on Steve’s chest, letting his eyes fall closed. Steve tangled his fingers in Bucky’s hair again and started to hum “It’s Been a Long, Long Time” ever so softly. Bucky smiled. They’d finally gotten their happy ending. 

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos literally make my day. It means a ridiculous amount when I see that someone read my work and was like, "Huh. not bad, kiddo."


End file.
